


you could be the one

by bisexualharrycunningham



Category: Silent Witness (TV)
Genre: .... i rly don't know how to use tags smh, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed, So many tropes, a lil bit of angst, as do i, both my boys are bisexual messes, but oh well, harry accidentally sees leo in the shower, i guess?, leo misses sam ryan btw, mainly just fluff and harry and leo being too stupid to realise their feelings, no i do not jsjjsj, oh and leo was never married, oh and there's some implied car sex in there too, out of character in places maybe? just a little, set after 8.4, that being said if i know u irl, this is very 2014-me-on-wattpad, tropes tropes tropes, which is a fun time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualharrycunningham/pseuds/bisexualharrycunningham
Summary: So, now the team is just Harry and Leo, Leo and Harry. That's fine. That's great. That's almost perfect, until a case calls them away from home and they have to share a bed...(aka the one where our two bisexual idiots are in love and being stuck together for a night or so is the final push they need...)
Relationships: Harry Cunningham/Leo Dalton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	you could be the one

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from 'unintended' by muse.  
> i started this before i became harry/nikki trash and honestly i still love this pairing anyway. baby bisexual harry makes me v happy.
> 
> this is the first fic i've written in literal years so please don't be too harsh!
> 
> thank you guys for reading. enjoy!

“Another case that involves traipsing halfway across the country?” Harry complained.

“Apparently so,” Leo handed him the overview of the case that he’d printed out, and stood up from his desk. “And they want us to leave now.”

Harry squinted at the sheet of paper Leo was holding out towards him. “But that’s miles away. What’s wrong with their department?”

“Under investigation, apparently. Someone messed up a triple murder case.” Leo shrugged his jacket on, and smiled at Harry’s obvious frustration. “I’m going to go home, grab enough stuff for a few days, y’know, shirts and stuff. They’ve got us a hotel on the outskirts of town, in some little village a few miles out. Want me to pick you up from your place at about two?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Harry mumbled, then looked up from his reading and smiled warmly. “I mean, yeah, thank you.”

Leo patted him on the arm in that typically blokey way he had and left their shared workroom. Harry smiled to himself again. The last case they’d worked on had been tough, and they’d argued – well, bickered. Things had been a tad tense for a while. But now, Harry thought to himself, they were okay – thank god, the two of them were okay.

By the time two ‘o’ clock came round, Harry had packed a rucksack full of a variety of floral or checked shirts, two pairs of jeans, and all the relevant equipment he might need for the case that was portable and might not be sufficiently supplied by the workplace in question. Leo had texted twice – first, to confirm that the body wouldn’t be coming back to the university, because they’d already been some legal faffing - the poor woman had only been found a matter of hours ago! - and second, to remind Harry to remember his toothbrush this time round. He had that sort of agitated, morbid excitement he always felt when a new case was started - or at least, that’s what he told himself was the cause of his butterflies.

Leo beeped his horn outside and Harry ran downstairs, grabbed his bag, and slammed his front door behind him.

“You were on time,” Leo commented.

“Didn’t want to keep you waiting,” Harry grinned. “Straight to the scene?”

“Yep,” Leo pulled off from the curb sharply. “There’s a bottle of water in that bag at your feet, and some crisps, in case you’re hungry. We probably won’t get back to the hotel ‘til late, and even then, I dunno what the situation will be for food.”

“Ta. D’you want the salt and vinegar?”

^^^

There had been a woman found with her throat cut and belly turned inside out, hung up in her office in a crude starfish sort of shape. She hadn’t been seen since nine that morning. Her boss helpfully commented that he had assumed that her paranoid behaviour over the last few days, was nothing more than a symptom of menopause. The CCTV footage showed that her office door was something of a blindspot, right between two cameras, and opposite a balcony, with doors found flung wide. Her boss wondered aloud to a bemused Harry whether she’d just been “getting air”, because of her “hot flushes”, “because women get so fussy about those, don’t they”, ignoring the quite obvious explanation that the murderer had both entered and exited via the window in question, what with it being only one level from the groundfloor. A young policewoman rolled her eyes behind his back, and Harry giggled into his hand, and Leo glared at the both of them.

It was almost 1am before Leo and Harry were able to clamber back into Leo’s car and head towards the hotel, and Leo looked half dead with a mix of exhaustion and what Harry hoped wasn’t irritation.

“You alright?” Harry asked into the silence. Leo nodded wearily, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“Just tired. What’s the name of the hotel again?”

“The Cock. Very nice.”

Leo glanced across to see Harry smirking in the passenger seat. “You can be such a child, Harry.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Leo glanced at him again and laughed slightly. “Not far now.”

As it happened, it took them a further twenty minutes to find The Cock – it was further out of town than either of them had anticipated. It also looked rather on the verge of collapse. The two exchanged a glance, before heading inside, both eager to get some rest ahead of what was bound to be yet another long day. The woman who greeted them was in her mid-twenties, and had a sleek bob to her chin.

“Your room is 009, boys – just along the corridor here,” she smiled falsely. Harry made to follow her, raising an eyebrow disdainfully at the striped yellow wallpaper that hung limply at the walls, but Leo put his arm out and grabbed Harry’s with a kind of panic that made Harry’s stomach drop.

“Room?” Leo spluttered, looking between Harry and their host. “There must be some mistake – there should be two singles.”

The woman checked her clipboard with disinterest. “Definitely a double, sir.”

Harry felt a kind of twist in his stomach to see how horrified Leo looked at the notion of sharing a bed, and then felt another twist as he wondered why he was even bothered by how bothered Leo was. Because, of course, he didn’t want to share a bed with Leo – why would he? He was just tired, that’s all – tired and stressed. Only natural...

“I’m sorry, sir, there’s no other rooms available,” the woman was saying to Leo. “Unless you want the king suite, but that’ll be an extra-”

“We’ll take the room,” Harry butted in before he could think of what he was saying. “We’ll take 009, or whatever it is.”

“But Harry-”

“Leo, I’m tired,” Harry sighed. “And you look even worse than me-”

“Well, thank you, Har-”

“Some sleep is better than none, isn’t it!” he snapped. “Bloody hell, Leo, and you say _I’m_ like a child!”

With an apologetic smile towards their host, Harry headed off down the corridor, and motioned back to her to unlock the door. She handed him the key and ducked away from Leo into some kind of basement, clearly eager to get away.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Leo cried incredulously, as Harry dropped his rucksack onto the floor by the dusty-looking bed.

“Where else were you planning on sleeping?”

“Well - the car, maybe, one of u-”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only for a night or two – and we can divide the bed into two with pillows, if you’re that bothered.”

“There’s only two pillows.”

“And how the fuck is that my fault?!” Harry spun round to glare at his friend. “I was trying to make the best of a bad situation, trying to be the grown up, I didn’t wa-”

And then Harry saw the hurt in Leo’s eyes – the hurt, and the panic, and the pain.

“I’m sorry, Leo, just – well, I’ll sleep on the floor, if you like.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s really fine.”

“No,” Leo sat down at the foot of the bed and began to untie his laces, and then looked up at his friend searchingly. “I’m sorry, Harry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m tired, and you are too – and I was wrong to blame you for that.”

Harry half-smiled at him. “S’okay.”

“It’s not. But I appreciate you saying so anyway.” Leo yawned. “Left or right side?”

“Right. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, of course.”

“I’m just gonna take a quick shower,” Harry said, heading for the grotty-looking en suite. “Won’t be a min.”

^^^

When Harry emerged from the shower, Leo was tucked up in bed, seemingly fast asleep. In silence, Harry turned out the overhead light and slipped into bed beside him – keeping enough room between them so Leo wouldn’t be able to feel Harry’s breath tickling his neck and his back. Harry could hear Leo let out little, content, sleepy sighs beside him, and slowly, he felt himself slip into sleep, feeling at peace in the silence, and safe by his friend’s side. However, he hadn’t been asleep for long before he was woken abruptly by a loud moaning sound – Leo, cursing and hitting out in his sleep. In an instant, Harry was wide awake, and sat up beside him, shaking his bare shoulder.

“Leo,” he cried. “Leo, wake up-”

And indeed, Leo awoke with a cry, and let out another as he realised how close Harry was to his face. They both flushed red, and shifted into a seated position against the wooden headboard, Leo still breathing shakily, feeling awfully sweaty and uncomfortable, and Harry thinking exclusively about how soft Leo’s skin was, and how he totally should not have been thinking about that.

“Bad dream?” he asked, as his friend’s breathing became more regular.

“Bad dream.” Leo sighed. There was a silence. Leo squinted at Harry’s shape beside him in the dark. “You wear pyjamas.”

“An old shirt and pants, that’s different.” Harry chuckled. “You’re make me sound like a kid again. And I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, topless.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Another silence – heavier than the first.

“Are you -” he struggled to find the right words. “Leo, are you okay?”

“Good question,” Leo muttered, but, seeing Harry’s concerned face frowning at him in the dark, he tried again. “I’m okay, but I’m not. You know how it is.”

Harry did. “You miss her, don’t you.” It was a statement this time, not a question.

“Yeah. Don’t you?”

“Yeah. Sam was... yeah, she was good.”

Harry flexed his fingers in the dark, debating whether or not to reach out for his friend to comfort him, scared of accidentally touching him in the wrong way, or in the wrong place, and ruining it all again.

“The body today,” Leo’s voiced cracked. “It looked – well, it sounds awful, but-”

“She looked a bit like Sam,” Harry finished. “Was that your dream?”

“Nightmare. But yeah. Thought you were too busy making eyes at that policewoman with the curly hair to notice.”

“Who?”

“Curly.”

“The one taking the piss out of the boss guy?” Harry asked incredulously. Leo nodded affirmative. “She was funny, yeah. But she’s not my type.”

Harry was glad that Leo didn’t ask what his type was, because he would never have known how to answer; the past few weeks, he was becoming more and more concerned that maybe _Leo_ was his type.

“I always worried about Sam,” Leo continued. “She was like a sort of – sister, to me, I suppose. And she has suffered so much, because of this job, and, well, I don’t know – it's like suffering stalks her wherever she goes.”

Harry considered. “She’s safe now, though, with her son. But I do get it, Leo – this job does things to you. Messes with your head. You’re so good at it, though – you’re so kind, and clever, and all those things I’d never say to you in broad daylight-”

Leo barked out a laugh. “I wasn’t very kind to you earlier.”

“You were upset.” Harry saw Leo shake his head and slide downwards into bed. Harry slid down onto the pillow, too. “I am sorry, about the bed, and if I made things – worse.” Fuck it, he thought, finding Leo’s hand under the covers, and squeezing it, just long enough to let him know that he was there. “I only wanted to help.”

“I know,” Leo said. They lapsed into silence once more – but just as he fell asleep again, Harry was almost sure that he felt Leo’s hand slip back into his.

^^^

When Leo woke up, at around seven that morning, he was instantly aware of two things. One – he was hotter than usual, verging on sweaty, and two – the extra body heat took the form of a certain Harry Cunningham, who had somehow moved closer in his sleep, rolled onto his front, and thrown his arm around Leo’s waist. His heart started to hammer, so loudly that he was worried that Harry would hear it...

Harry. Leo smiled quietly. It seemed that however much he might have hurt Harry’s feelings yesterday, by being bitter and jealous and scared, he had been forgiven; after all, Leo had had only Harry’s best interests at heart. He’d been scared – and still was – that sharing a bed had been a step too far, because he liked Harry, he liked him a lot, and he was scared that Harry didn’t feel the same. But here Harry was, draped over him in his bed like a lover, shirt having ridden up in the night to expose the small of his back...Leo licked his lips. Better get out of such a compromising position before his body betrayed him and Harry lost his patience with him, for good.

Leo shuffled gently out from under the covers, prising Harry’s arm from his stomach with regret. It took several attempts, and Leo’s heart felt like it might burst at the notion that Harry wanted to hold him; he had to give himself a severe telling off in the bathroom mirror for thinking such a thing. Because it was natural that Harry would gravitate towards him in bed – he was probably thinking about that bloody curly-haired girl from yesterday. He’d be mortified if he knew.

The shower suited him well enough; though the handle was rusty, the water was suitably hot, and the shampoo supplied smelled pleasantly like tea tree oil. He recognised the scent from Harry’s hair that morning – how awfully domestic, sharing shampoo, and sharing a bed. He cursed his brain’s ability to romanticise even the smallest of things – _damn_ , he had it bad.

It was at this moment, as Leo rinsed the last of the shampoo from his hair, that the door to the bathroom swung open.

 _“Shit_ ,” Harry cursed, and slammed the door behind him. Leo yelped in surprise.

“Harry, fuck off!”

“Sorry,” he yelled back. With a sigh, he leant back against the bathroom door with his hands to his face in shame. Leo had obviously failed to get the trick of the dodgy lock, and he had been too sleepy to check for the sound of rushing water first... oh, God. Harry wished he could just disappear – and, moreover, that he could get the image of Leo out of his mind. He’d had his back to him, running his fingers through his hair, the soapy water running down his back and curving around that perfect arse of his...

Harry heard the tell-tale sound of the shower handle clanking off and snapped himself out of his thoughts. Damn, he had it bad. He should get dressed, or brush his hair, or just do something halfway normal to ease the awkwardness of the situation. But when Leo emerged from the en suite, buttoning up his striped shirt, he simply raised his eyebrows at Harry and asked whether he’d be ready to go down to breakfast in five.

“Breakfast?” Harry repeated blankly, transfixed by Leo’s still-damp hair falling into his eyes, and more than a little distracted by the smell of his aftershave.

“Yes. Hopefully our host won’t try to poison us after last night.”

“Don’t think she’d bother.” Harry rummaged through his rucksack to find his deodorant. “I’ll meet you down there in a few mins, I’ll just freshen up.” He waved vaguely in the direction of the en suite. “And, y’know, sorry for – well, sorry.”

For the first time, Leo showed some signs of embarrassment; he looked away from Harry almost shyly. “Nothing you’ve never seen before,” he tried to joke. Harry blinked again. “I mean-”

“I know what you mean.” Harry huffed out a laugh, and headed towards the bathroom. “Don’t worry. See you in a min.”

Leo nodded, and headed downstairs.

^^^

They didn’t mention it for the rest of the day - ‘it’ referring to the fight, the shared bed, the nightmare, the hand-holding, and the unfortunate shower incident that morning. To each other, they both appeared solely focused on the case, though of course, internally, both were turning over the events of the past day in their mind. The case was engrossing, though; it had become clear that the murder had been committed by a jealous ex who had been known to give incredibly specific methods of violence in the past. Harry noted in the post-mortem examination that the ex’s initials, cross-examined on Facebook, had previously been crudely carved above her breast, which had left ugly scars she had covered with creamy foundation in her daily life. But Leo wasn’t satisfied –indeed, even the police could see that while jealousy was the motive, fuelled by unaddressed psychological issues, the reason for jealousy was unclear, and given the three years between the couple’s splitting and now, it seemed likely that there had been a trigger point for the murder.

  
It was only when, while being questioned by Harry, watching the poor woman’s boss continue to make snarky remarks about her age, it became clear to Leo that he was their missing piece; his apparent indifference and unkindness was an attempt to over his own arse. He had been seeing the dead woman for three weeks, and declined to say so due to her age (she was almost twenty years his senior) and his position as her boss. And, when Leo asked, he admitted to having received threats, too – and as soon as he had been taken to the station to speak to the police more officially, Leo turned to Harry and, with raised eyebrows, commented on how he understood what his daughter had meant when she accused all men of being arseholes. Harry had laughed and patted Leo’s elbow. “Not you though. And _definitely_ not me.”

By four o’clock that evening, the murderous ex had been located, slouched drunkenly in his living room, almost as though he was waiting to be found. He was taken in without struggle. Leo and Harry watched the police car drive away side by side on a half-broken bench in a peaceful silence... at least, a peaceful silence until Harry’s tummy decided to grumble and groan loudly, and Harry was forced to bark out an embarrassed laugh.

“Sorry about that, rather ruined the moment.”

Leo turned his head to face him. “You hungry?”

“Yeah,” Harry kicked a stone from the pavement into the road. “We should probably head back to the hotel, and eat some... fruit, or something. And get some rest, and head off early tomorrow.”

There was a silence in which Leo appeared to be carefully considering his next words. And then, he shyly said – voice lower than Harry had ever heard it, and tinged with a hopefulness that fluttered Harry’s heart - “Or we could go out for dinner?”

Harry turned to find Leo’s face inches from his. He blushed furiously, and got to his feet, but, seeing Leo’s face fall worriedly, he broke into a small smile, and reach out his hand. “That would be great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Leo took his hand and stood up, too – then, breaking the contact, he motioned towards Harry to get back into the car. “If it’s okay, I’ll head back, and get washed and changed into some half-decent clothes, but then we can head straight there. It‘d be nice to celebrate finishing the case so quickly. I was thinking that we could maybe try the Italian restaurant we saw near the town centre – the one where you pointed out the husky earlier. I’ll book a table when we get back?”

Harry grinned as he slammed the passenger door and put on his seatbelt. “It was a very cute husky. And yeah, the Italian would be great.”

^^^

Leo chose his evening outfit carefully – a silky blue shirt, and tight black jeans – in the hope that he would look classy without looking like he’d tried too hard. After all, this wasn’t a date, right? This was just two friends going for food after a long and stressful day.

Yet Leo didn’t know if he really believed that anymore. It wasn’t just the way they’d woken up in each other's arms, or how kind he’d been about his nightmare (he cringed to think what a sight he must’ve been) - no, it was the way that Harry had blushed when he’d asked him to dinner, and the way he’d offered his hand...and oh, Leo hoped so badly that he hadn’t read this all wrong, because he wanted Harry so badly, but wanted to maintain their friendship, and Harry’s happiness, even more...

Leo waited in the hotel lobby for Harry to finish dressing, fiddling absently with the cuffs of his shirt. The lady on the desk peered at him over the top of her glasses, and as he opened his mouth to say hi, she disappeared into the back room. He glanced through some fliers, scanned the one advertising some local indie gigs with vague interest, crumpling the ‘Vote Conservative’ ones in his fist. Leo was not a man who was good at being bored – but Harry, when he finally appeared, was more than worth the wait. He was wearing a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone at the top, allowing Leo a peek at the pale expanse of his chest, with navy trousers that Leo knew, without looking, would show off his arse very, very well. A matching jacket was slung over his arm, too, and best of all, he was smiling – genuinely, really smiling. And that smile left Leo breathless.

Funnily enough, Leo’s appearance had a similar effect on Harry – he had always loved the older man in blue. He was surprised he so much as made it down the stairs without stumbling; his whole body was tingling and his legs had gone to jelly completely.

“Ready?” Leo asked.

“You look gorgeous.” Harry blurted. “I mean – yes. Ready.”

With a bemused glance backwards, Leo led the way towards his car. Harry jogged to keep up, and silently cursed the breeze for ruffling his hair back into its messy, pre-styled state.

It took only fifteen minutes to arrive at their desired destination. They were shown to a small alcove towards the back of the restaurant with a two-seater table tucked inside. A hanging lantern cast peachy geometric shards of light across the table, and a small vase of flowers stood alone in the centre of the table.

“Thanks for suggesting this,” Harry smiled, slouching down onto the red leather seat opposite his friend. Leo grinned back, and pushed the menu across the table to him.

“What you drinking?”

“Pinot, I think. Sophistication personified, me. What about you?”

"Just water. Driving.”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “Shit, sorry.”

“I don’t mind, honestly. Not a wine-drinker myself.” Leo looked up at the approaching waitress and gestured to Harry. “Pinot for him, tap water for me.”

She nodded, and, promising to return for their food order soon, turned on her heel and retreated to the bar.

“Horrible to think there’s men like that ex of hers out there,” Harry said after a pause. “The victim’s ex, I mean. I know I’m far from perfect but I could neve-”

“Harry,” Leo interrupted pleadingly. “Let’s not talk about work.” Then, seeing how taken aback Harry looked, he winced, and followed with “Sorry, I just – well, I want to talk to you, about you, the things you like, don’t like... I want to get to know you as something more than a colleague.”

Both men blushed and were rescued by the waitress returning with their glasses and taking their order of two large, vegetarian, spaghetti-based meals. Then, fiddling with his cutlery, Harry ventured “Well, what do you want to know?”

“About you.”

“Yeah, but what? I’m not exactly – well, I’m a bit boring, really.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Rubbish. Tell me something random. Your favourite film, your favourite song.”

“Well, not to be that guy, but Star Wars.” he grinned sheepishly.

“And your song?”

“Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“ _Unintended_. Muse song. You won’t know it.”

Leo frowned. “No, I don’t. They’re a rock band, right? He screams a lot, the main one, Mark-”

“Matt.”

“- _Matt_ , yeah.”

Harry laughed. “He doesn’t just scream. He sings in this one. It’s a love – a lovely song.”

There was a pause. Harry thought they'd done a lot of pausing recently and wondered what that meant.

“A love song?” Leo asked.

“Yeah.”

“Never thought you were one for romance, Harry.”

Harry put down his glass with a thud. “Neither did I.”

Leo looked at him squarely in the eye for the first time since they’d sat down at their two-seater table, and felt something inside him melt. Harry was looking at him with that sort of sad amusement so common to those suffering the pain of unrequited love, and Leo wanted to scream – because unrequited love his arse! Harry had never looked quite so pretty as he did then, and god, it took all the strength Leo had to not lean right across their table and kiss him on the lips -

Leo took a deep breath. Forced himself to calm down, speak like a rational middle-aged man because, goddamnit, that was what he was before Harry.

“But you do now?” he asked, hating how his voice shook. “You think you’re a- a romantic now?”

Harry hesitated, and then slowly, so slowly and achingly tenderly, placed his hand on top of Leo’s in the centre of the table.

“Yeah. Since I met you.”

^^^

Their spaghetti arrived. Leo chewed slowly, mindfully, trying to tell himself that this was real and very much happening. Harry pushed his food around his plate and drank more wine than he should have, and got the giggles when Leo leant over to hold his hand again, after he’d finished eating, and almost knocked over the vase.

When they’d finished eating and drinking, they talked, and after they’d finished talking, they stood up and Leo guided Harry back to their car with his hand on Harry’s waist. And, once they’d got into their car, Harry murmured Leo’s name into the silence, and Leo turned to him, and Harry glanced down towards Leo’s lips, and then they were kissing.

 _They were kissing_. Leo’s brain stopped working right about then.

Harry kissed him softly at first, gentle, questioning, drawing out a little hum of contentment from Leo that, if he’d been less overwhelmed, he might have been embarrassed about; then, Harry kissed him more deeply in the darkness, leaning across the gearstick and cupping Leo’s face in his hands. Leo’s fingers found themselves running through Harry’s hair, and down his neck to his collarbone, and then further down his torso, fiddling teasingly with the buttons of his shirt...

“God, Harry,” Leo whispered. Then he chuckled, as he felt Harry’s hand greedily groping downwards and into his lap. “We really shouldn’t be doing this here.”

“I don’t care,” Harry said, continuing to kiss down Leo’s neck, fumbling with Leo’s belt eagerly. “I want you, Leo, I want you -” he paused, pulled away, and looked at Leo properly. “And I love you, you know that, right?”

Leo nodded wordlessly. Harry stared back at him. “And?”

“And I love you, too, Harry.” He felt Harry’s hand brush against him and bucked his hips involuntarily. “Good God, I love you too.”


End file.
